For the first time in Frank Black's solo career, he records under the name Black Francis, a name he has not donned since the breakup of the Pixies in 1993. Such a move suggests a return to the glory and style of the quintessential alternative rock band. But before the legions of Pixies fans rejoice, Black claims the name-change has nothing to do with the Pixies, but rather with the spirit of Herman Brood, the late Dutch musician who inspired Black's album. While the reason behind the change might disappoint fans, it is still clear in Bluefinger that Black Francis retains some of his Pixies genius.
It's understandable why Black would be motivated by Brood's spirit. Both men share a similar artistic style, and both are known for their wide range of musical abilities. Also, Brood's tragic life, plagued with drugs and ailing health, provides some emotionally charged fodder for Black's latest album.
Unfortunately, Black's album sometimes cuts into his ability to turn a phrase. In "Angels Come to Comfort You," the most overt tribute to Brood, Black keeps his signature twisted and choppy lyrics at bay and replaces them with awkward, simple lines like "He played piano really fucking good,” and “He was no saint/ But he was Dutch/ So he could paint.” On top of that, the entire song plays out almost like Brood's suicide note. Luckily, Violet Clark provides an angelic vocal line in the background, preventing the song from becoming too dark.
Aside from a few imperfections with his tribute, Black proves his genius has not quite diminished. Bluefinger opens with "Captain Pasty," showcasing Black's rapid fire, nonsensical lyrics right off the bat. And with "Threshold Apprehension" following, Black provides some of his strongest rock he has blasted since 1991's "U-Mass." Even at his age, Black is able to show off his signature high-pitched scream, a throwback to his Pixies days, during his cover of Brood's "You Can't Break a Heart and Have It." During "Tight Black Rubber," Francis is featured at his most Pixies-esque, with his lyrics illustrating perverse sex ("She bit me so hard/ When I just filled her"), and one can almost feel Kim Deal's signature bass lines.
Even with all the makings of a Pixies album — including the screaming and poetic nonsense — this is more of Frank Black's album than Black Francis'. Bluefinger is ultimately a straightforward rock album. Gone is the depth many Pixies devotees know Francis has, and even the reverbs that served Francis well before are almost nonexistent. Although with Francis' intense lyrics missing and little going on in postproduction, Bluefinger becomes easily accessible, but nonetheless enjoyable.
While it is unfair to compare Francis' solo music career with alterna-rock gods the Pixies, fans still know the greatness Francis is capable of, and this album is somewhat of a disappointment. While this is the closest Francis has come to recapturing his glory days, followers hoping for a throwback to Doolittle or Surfer Rosa will just have to wait for the rumored upcoming Pixies album. Until that day comes, Bluefinger nearly fills the void.
